Just Last Night
by Lonely In Gorgeous
Summary: One shot, bittersweet SeiyaxUsagi piece. Non Mamoru bashing. Please R&R. Being continued
1. Just Last Night

**Just Last Night**

A Seiya x Usagi drabble

A/N: This is just a little something I whipped up today. Writing this is strange, because I feel like I support both SeiyaxUsagi and MamoruxUsagi, and I don't see any point in bashing Mamoru cos' basically...he's not a bad guy. Then again, neither is Seiya. I'm writing this piece trying to focus on how difficult choices and mistakes can be for Usagi to make. After all, she is only sixteen (and being a sixteen year old girl myself, I know how difficult stuff can seem sometimes). Apologies for any grammar or spelling mistakes and please review my work as constructively as you can.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon. Only this story. And even that isn't too great a claim, heh.

* * *

I was drinking coffee when she walked in. Like a well trained dog, I was alert to her presence, even though her footsteps were almost weightless. 

"Do you want to go for a run?" She asks me. Tracksuit bottoms hung at taut hip bones, a wife beater rolling up to just below her navel. I think about how beautiful she is. I always do. I take another sip of coffee, giving myself time to think.

"Sure." I nod. She smiles thinly, and waits for me to finish my coffee and bagel.

Outside, Tokyo is vague geometry of buildings, washed clean by the silence of early morning. The sky was just a plain amber canvas, and tinted her naked shoulders a soft orange. We start jogging lightly, syncopated to each other's footsteps. It always amazed me how light she felt. She almost felt made of air, like she had to be pinned down in order to keep her on Earth.

A knot formed in my throat at the thought.

Then she started to run harder, faster. I kept up with her, watching her legs kick up like a mechanised machine. I think of how her face must look. Angry, hard, dark; all of the things she is not. All of the things I feel he has made her. She slows down, we whir past buildings, past direction signs, never moving in a steady path, always diverting and finding new routes to travel down.

"I'm thirsty." She announces.

"Not surprised." I grin, already pulling out some yen for a soda. I get her an ice water and me an iced tea. We sit wordlessly, robotically taking gulps from our drinks. I watch the telephone lines cut through the slowly brightening sky while she stares at her hands, trying to get more used to this city.

"I'm tired."

"You've been running a long time."

Neither of us can tell what I mean when I say that. It cuts through the atmosphere a little, and she clamps her little mouth shut.

"I'm sorry, I meant-"

"I know." She interrupts me.

"You can always stay with me, Odango." I blurt out. The words sound clumsy, unrehearsed, but they come from within the very core of me.

She stands up. I think of her running away until she is lost, a dim silhouette in a city that is not my home. Instead she makes it to the curb of the pavement and looks down for a long time.

"Really?" She says softly. I feel my heart hurt a little.

"Yes." I force out.

She turns back, her eyes glowing, marvellous in their expression. I think absentmindedly about how nothing could ever capture those eyes; the length of the eyelashes or the emotion captured in each look.

"I'm very happy you said that." She whispers. "Very happy."

My heart stops. "Really?"

"Yes." She nods, walking back towards me. She takes hold of my hands and strokes them with her thumb. I could see her thinking, even as she peered at the calluses on my fingers from hours of playing the guitar. "But- but."

She releases my hands, and leans back on the bench, her eyes focussing on nothing.

"Do you love me, Seiya?"

I feel no hesitation in my answer. "You know I do."

"Okay." She breathes out, then leans forward, skimming her hands up and down the material of her tracksuit bottoms. "Okay."

I could see her mind spinning. I could feel my heart already twist as she stood there; on the verge of either breaking it or saving it.

"It's impossible."

For some reason, I smile. It is if I have known this all along, even though my heart shatters with her soft words.. "Why is that, Odango?"

She frowns at me. "You know why."

"Ah, Mamo-chan." I say teasingly, trying to keep the venom out of my voice. "I don't like him."

She laughs humourlessly. "But I do."

My patience snaps like a delicate thread at this moment. My jaw tightens and my voice grows darker and I feel anger pass through me like a shiver. "Is that why you came last night?" I stand up, feeling irritated and restless. "Is that why he makes you cry? Because he loves you? Is that why you and me-?"

She stops me. "Don't. You shouldn't have let me kiss you in the first place."

"Oh? Who am I suddenly, Odango? Your guardian? Last I checked, you had more than enough to keep you in check." I hate the bitterness in my voice. A silence passes, and she looks boldly into my eyes, her focus strong and solid.

Sunlight spills all around her body as she stands up and jogs on. I feel my feet go after her. I match every change in tempo in her, from fast to slow, from friend to lover. It is a fault in my being, this necessity to be with her, no matter how hurt I become. I am overcome with a sense of loss as we run, and I realise I am crying when the wind makes my tears feel cold.

We stop again. She stands, lacing her fingers behind her back.

"I wish I could fall in love with you."

I feel my throat rise. "Then just _do." _

She shakes, and then I realise she is crying. Maybe it is all too easy for me, and not at all easy for her. I walk up to her, and she presses her face to my shoulder, sniffing.

"You told me not to feel bad." She sobs.

"I said I'd carry you off, too."

"I thought you were joking."

I shake my head. I never joked with her.

"I'm sorry."

I take in the scent of her hair, warm and fragrant, like baking bread. "Don't apologise, Odango."

"I'm sorry about last night."

"Last night was just..." I can't believe I'm saying this. "_Just _last night, OK?"

She looks back at me, looking shocked and then relieved. She opens her mouth to say something, and then closes her mouth again. We hug for a little while, secluded in the stillness of the morning, and the promises we both made.

Last night was _just _last night.

I feel bittersweet as she rests in my arms, the combination of the best and worst sensations in the world flooding me in an indescribable ache.

She holds my arm as we walk back, and rests her head on my shoulder. I feel as if she is giving me access to her for a little longer, to compensate for the hurt she feels she has caused. We say nothing, even as she talks to Mamoru back at my apartment, her voice flat as she recites promises and 'I love you's. I can tell she is trying to keep her voice down for my sake, but I hear everything.

"He's picking me up at ten." She says, snapping her cell phone back down. I look quickly to the clock; 9.40 a.m. I feel like all the breath has escaped my chest, but not like the hazy breathlessness of last night as our lips parted, a more dreaded breathless, filled with escape and loss.

We watch TV a little to fill the silence between us. For too long I watch the digits of the clock change, until it reaches 9:56 a.m., and we know it's over.

"Um, thanks for letting me stay over, I'm sorry if I troubled you." She says.

"That's OK."

Quickly she goes into my arms, and I hold her fiercely, as if the violence of my embrace will keep her here.

"I'm..."

"Don't say you're sorry."

She giggles a little; a beautiful sound I don't hear enough, melodic and sweet.

"OK."

"I'm always here." I repeat.

"I know." She sighs.

We part a little, my hands stilling over her shoulders. I look into her eyes, bleared and soft. I think of last night; of the tiny circle of the moon outside the window, crowning the stars in the sky. In that instance I thought about how much closer the stars were to the Moon than the Earth ever was, and how I was feeling that intimacy now in her lips.

And I'm kissing her again, wrapping her jacket round her shoulders, keeping her close for a few more seconds. It isn't rough like last night, it's tender and brief, and brings departure ever closer.

"I have to go, Seiya."

"I know." I whisper, still wrapping her jacket around her shoulders.

She's out of the door when she turns back to me, and smiles. "Maybe we could go running next week?"

Her smile reaches me, and I grin. "Maybe."


	2. Guilt

A/N: Yes, I'm continuing it (mainly just for Thorn on A Rose though :D ). I don't know, I think that (maybe?) this story could go somewhere. Like I said in my previous notes, this story is in no way Mamoru-bashing or even a typical SeiyaxUsagi get together... Even if it's a get together at all. Please review my work as constructively as possible, and have...fun, I suppose.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon. Plus, I'm penniless and spend all my money on clothes on books, so Naoko would get...About a tenner off me. Heh.

* * *

The rain was falling down in sheets by the time Mamo-chan decided to pick me up. I hadn't even noticed it was raining before, which was unusual for me; I'd usually be searching for the first signs of lightning.

We sat in silence for a few moments; he kept on looking at me, as if my messy hair or my crumpled tracksuit were clues. He always had such an analytical mind, _quietly discerning, _Ami called it.

I kept on biting my nails and glancing out the window. The area around Seiya's apartment was so nice, all tinted windows and boutique mannequins standing imposingly like temple statues out onto the passers by.

Finally he asked me if I had slept well last night.

"Fine." I said, smiling. I looked back at him, and saw how glazed his eyes looked, and how sleepily he was following the map of road signs leading us back to his apartment.

I couldn't tell if he was angry. It wasn't a particularly angry silence, but there was something that crackled in the air between us. It was hard because his features always looked so hard and set, it was difficult to detect any alterations in them.

Finally I asked him if we could put the radio on. He nodded silently, and as the music came on, it was as if a weight crashed between us.

_Kimi ha itsumo kagayai te ta_

_egao hitotsu chiisana hoshi_

_taisetsu ni shite ta yo (eien no starlight)_

As quick as anything, I pressed the power button, silencing the sound of his voice.

"I'm sorry." I forced out, before even seeing his face.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It doesn't matter." Pause.

I stifled a snort of disbelief. _Yeah, sure. _I fiddled with the sleeves of my jacket, watching as the businessmen move in droves around the city, dead eyed and focussed. I'd hate to be like that, I thought. I had never really paid that much attention to them before, but at the moment I felt incredibly bad for them, like watching a sad scene of a movie but not being able to press the fast forward button so you don't have to watch.

I wish life was like that: a videotape. You could tape over all the bad parts you'd like, skip past the boring bits, and then rewind and watch the good parts as much as you wanted.

I could erase last night. Then I could skip past and make a _lot _of stuff different. I'd go back to being fourteen for a little while, just before Luna found me, so I could remember what it was like. Then I could study a little bit more. And maybe get the courage to ask Motoki out- hey, if he refused, I could just erase it! Right?

Well, sometimes, I'm just... curious. I've only ever kissed one guy, great kisser that he proved to be.

Wait-

Well, I can't say that now, can I?

I think of last night and my head whirs, like a carousel going too fast, with lights blinking on and off. I think of this morning, and how I can still taste him in my mouth, and I'm touching my lips so I can remember. He tasted different from Mamo-chan; not _better, _just different; like coffee and well... _Seiya. _

When we stop, Mamo-chan comes across to kiss me. I think about how many other times we've kissed, and how this one doesn't feel different or spectacular, but still laced with something different.

What was that word again?

Oh yeah, _guilt._

I sneak into my house with rain soaked clothes, thankful that it's Sunday so my Mother is out shopping and Papa is probably napping. There's a pile of unfinished homework lying on top of my desk that I don't even want to think about right now. _Sine _curves make even less sense to me right now than usual. But I still pick up the pen, letting the nib float over the blank page.

I write my name: _Tsukino Usagi. Age: 16. _

Simple enough. Only it isn't. So many things come with it; distorted mirror images of princesses and heroines that have always been strangers to me. I think of the faces that surround me, of the destiny moves me, and it makes me feel ill.

I never feel like this. At least I never try to.

There's nothing else on the page; just me, my identity summarised into a few messy kanji characters. It used to be all I needed. I look at the name and it doesn't seem to fit me anymore. And I can't just laugh it off again. It's _my _name, _mine, _but it isn't anymore, it's been sold off.

And I'm writing down everything; every painful thought creviced into the paper supposed to be for _Tsukino Usagi's _math homework, betraying every reassurance that's carried me through these past two years.

It's erratic, nothing, just a flow of thought. A map of names, of places, of feeling and thought; I write about last night:

_I won't. _

_You have to. _

_Why are you making me do this? I don't want to make this decision. _

_But you have to, we have to. _

In the margin I write about Seiya, hiding every thought I have for him away from the rest. 'Guilt' is all I can seem to write. I know I hurt him so much. I hurt him just by being around him. I can't stay in this flux, bordering between friend /would be lover. Yet I don't know what else to do.

I kiss him because I need him, because it's like for a second I'm grabbing onto the fading _me. _Like I'm being sixteen, just sixteen, just kissing a boy because I find him cute and I feel like it. Not considering a millennium long lost love, a duty as a Senshi, being a Princess or a Queen.

I look back at the centre of the page, to where the words Tsukino Usagi are resting:

just her, I mouth over and over again, just her.


	3. Ukifine

Disclaimer: IdonotownSailorMoonIdonotownSailorMoon...

A/N: Review or I chop Seiya's ponytail off... Also, if the idea of a self pitying Mamoru washing down brandy while listening to Johnny Cash doesn't tickle 'yer fancy, look away now. If it does, read on.

It's always been incredibly hard for me to feel like I'm losing anything.

I remember at the orphanage when we older children would be forced to surrender our old toys to the new arrivals. To be perfectly fair, most of us hadn't played with our toys in years: I included. Even now, my memory seems hazy, like a fragmented optical illusion I'm barely managing to piece together. I think it may have been a teddy bear? Or a clown? It's stitching had been frayed with years of endless play on my part.

So I held onto it tight, hid it in air vents, under my mattress, behind the bookcase at our small library on the west wing of the building. I may have even tried burying it at one point underneath the rose bush.

But they eventually took it away, lecturing me on how I was a big boy now and I didn't need my toy as much as the younger children.

I knew they were right, I still didn't want to let go though.

I imagined torturing the poor soul who claimed my toy. I imagined beating him up, making him cry, even ripping my beloved toy apart. But in the end I kind of surrendered. The orphanage got me a GameBoy that Christmas.

Now, I think- well, actually, I'm fully aware-

I blame the orphanage for a lot of things, actually. Sometimes I imagine how my life would have turned out if my parents _had _survived. Like after our argument last night, when the night's silence was an unbearable darkness against the ghost of her voice, I thought about them. Well, 'them' being the product of years of imagining and dreaming up phantom parents. Not 'them'.

I made up a sketchy movie in my mind; I went through each still frame, each idyllic childhood setting: a school play, a baseball game, graduation. I imagined their faces smiling at me and the words I hoped they might have said. It's strange, even though memories are nothing solid; I have always felt a sting of betrayal that they were snatched away from me in the first place. That I couldn't even make up true portraits of my parents from the little bits they decided to leave behind. Because it had to be taken away, like my toy, like-

Well, like her.

After the fight, I went and brought a bottle of brandy. I've never drunk before in my life, but I wanted something that would numb me a little. I put on some Johnny Cash, and listened to his woeful voice with a bitter mind. Me and Usako rarely fought, but when I did, a bit of Cash always seemed to soothe me. The brandy helped too, a good remedy, I noted. Back at the orphanage, they had a strict policy concerning alcohol, and the fear had been injected into me at an early age. Drugs, too. Usako always says I break out into a cold sweat whenever she needed to take an aspirin.

Typical, huh.

The truth is, I feel a little, _boring _around her. People say it's odd to see us together because of our difference in maturity, but inside my mind all I can see is the mismatch of experience and outlook on things. She's almost seventeen, sprouting into something beautiful but something I just can't seem to hold in my grasp anymore.

I love her, when has that not been enough?

I finish the last of my glass of brandy, feeling gritty and languid as _Long Black Veil _comes on. Johnny Cash: the man in black, he had to fight for June, I tell myself. And I'll fight for Usako, I know I will.

Wherever I went, his face just seemed to be plastered _everywhere; _going to the supermarket for my lunch: he was on a cardboard cut out for a cereal promotion. Going to Ropongi or passing through Shibuya, his face was covered in every magazine, every billboard, and the high pitched giggles of every school girl.

I knocked on Motoki's door, anticipating the sanctuary his apartment would provide.

"Mamoru, come in, come in."

I sniffed the air. "Have you been drinking?"

"Only a bit of beer." He said in a cheery voice. "I'm celebrating my freedom."

Shrugging my coat off, then wondering where the hell to put it amidst the tower blocks of paper and Styrofoam containers, I decided to just humour him. "Oh? Really, and just what is that, Motoki?"

"Me and Reika broke up!" He announced happily. I took a while to recognise the slurred words and then hook up a meaning with them.

"Wait, what, huh?" I murmured, my mouth slacking a little.

"We broke up." He said with a nonchalant shrug. "She was all career, blah, blah, blah, and I was all well you don't care about me obviously, and it's not fair, OK? I mean hear I am dusting tables and you're out there dusting dinosaur bones, and it's not right, not right! It's not right, isn't it Mamoru?" He had his arm shrugged around me at this point.

"I have no idea what you just said." I said, before clinking my glass against his. "But cheers."

"Yeah, cheers to the single life!"

"I'm not single." I pointed out.

"Whatever." He mumbled, stumbling to the floor and looking like he was resting there. "You're so lucky anyway. I mean, Usagi is _dedicated _to you man, y'know? She'd never leave you behind for her..." He did the inverted comma sign with his hands. "'Career', pah!"

I ignored his sentence. "What are you looking for?"

"Some music."

"Have any Johnny Cash?"

"I swear to God Mamoru, you need to _update _your musical tastes a little," He said distastefully. "No, I went and bought the new _Three Lights _single today."

Oh dear Lord.

I grumbled a little, before deciding to flop down to the floor beside him. Dirty magazines were scattered everywhere, half open, and stained with coffee. I crinkled my nose up at the scene, wondering with a wry smile how much of a field day Makoto would have cleaning this apartment.

"Just when did you and Reika break up then?" I said, silently hoping the CD would oh so conveniently slip out of his hands.

"Urh," He muttered, shuffling past CD cases with slow, woeful movements. "Last week?"

"Last week? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Ugh, I don't know, buddy..." He said, scratching the tip of his ear in embarrassment. "You seemed to have a lot of stuff on your plate, already. I dunno, you seemed kind of pissy."

"Thanks." I scoffed.

"No, no, no, man...I just meant..." His voice started to trail off, before reaching a giddy crescendo. "Yessss! I FOUND it!"

Before long, the CD turned on and flooded the apartment with slow vocal linings and accompanying violin strings. I recognised his richly toned voice dominating the song immediately.

_Haru no nioi mo mebuku hana mo _(1)

_Tachi sukumu atashi ni kimi wo tsurete wa konai (the scent of spring and the budding flowers will not bring you back to me as I stand paralyzed)_

_Natsu ga kuru goro wa akegata no ame shizuka ni yorisotte kakera hiroi atsumeru (when summer comes it's rain at dawn drawing close to you, I gather up the fragments)_

_Aki ga sugitara kitto atashi wa nobita kuroi kami wo kirioto shite shimau (After autumn passes, surely I will cut off the black hair that I'd let grow)_

I squeezed my eyes shut; trying to get rid of the fuzzy sensation I could feel from the alcohol. Of course the other nightI had more hostile thoughts about the guy, but this was no way for me to think. My mind was unclouded; I had never been a spiteful person, I wasn't going to start now. Motoki forced more ice cold beers into my hand, and I took them, eventually relaxing onto the floor and stacks of magazines. A soothing blanket of alcohol and good music wrapped itself around me. For a while I felt like a well rehearsed cliché; college student, twenty one, drinking beer, laughing about nothing in a messy room.

"C'mon _man _let's go out!" He moaned, grabbing my jumper. I tried to swat him away, but eventually I got up.

We wandered through the towns, grumbling and cheering while the headlights of motorbikes and cars shone on us like prison spotlights. Eventually we reached a noodle bar and grabbed beers, the content of our speech becoming less and less relevant as we drowned ourselves in cheap noodles and sad songs.

"Y'know, Mamoru... Reika would like, y'know, _y'know, _we would only ever _kiss, _y'know?"

No, I didn't actually, but it seemed irrelevant. _More beer please!_

"Like, I mean I respected her and _stuff, _but I'm a _man, _a _healthy young man!!" _He groaned and stuffed his face sloppily with the leftovers of his noodles. "With needs!"

"I get ya."

"I want a chick, a nice simple chick, y'know, who doesn't have a stupid career and just wants to have _fun!" _

"Uh huh."

"I mean, you're so lucky you have Usagi, she's not serious at all."

_Wanna bet? _

I took another hit of the beer, lukewarm from the heat hissing out of the noodle cooker and my hand. I was sweating.

"Usagi." I said it quietly, like it was a precious thing, not to be uttered too often. And she _is _precious, I love her, I love her, I love her...

"Mamoru! Mamoru! Hey man, stop it, what's wrong?"

"I love her," I cried. _But she doesn't love you. _It's his voice! _He's singing it over and over again, _

_she'll never be yours'. _

"Whaddaya saying, man, course she loves you! She's like, all over you. Why are you singing?"

_She doesn't even wear your ring anymore,_

"Come on."

_When was the last time she smiled at you the way she used to?_

It's a song, and I hate it, and he's singing it with _Johnny. _It's a duet. Johnny is smiling at him and winking, and strumming along to his words. I can see it.

_Just around the corner there's heartache _

_She doesn't even wear your ring anymore_

_Down the street that losers use..._

I'm singing like this for a while, crumpled in the nest of my arms, when I feel a hand slip around me. But it's not Motoki's; it's slim and manicured and presses firmly into my shoulder. A hot breath tickles my ear, like the intense heat you sink your feet into at the sandbox as a child.

"It's OK, honey." OK, female, _definitely _female. "Stop crying. Sh, it's OK."

I moved my eyes up from my arms, blinking away the layer of tears built up in the corners. A pair of unfamiliar rouged lips spoke slowly, pronouncing each word with silky reassurance that tightened that fuzzy blanket around me.

"Are you crying about your ex?" She asked me. I blinked, trying to make out her features; pale breasts spill out of a low cut blouse, thick eyelashes bat themselves sympathetically at me, hypnotically long. She must have been my age. I think she was wearing Chanel No.5. She had nice, pale skin that was illuminated by the surreal blend of street lights and the fluorescent light bulbs of the noodle bar.

Soon everything is flowing out of me, every problem articulated in the fog of alcohol and the stench of cheap noodles and Chanel No. 5 . She muttered 'uh huh' and nodded at me, patted my arm, my leg, every movement crisp in its precision and comfort. I imagined her slowly taking me up to her apartment, drinking wine with me, and peeling my clothes off as systematically as she was patting my arm. Then I'd leave her in the cold morning, go back to my apartment, to my photo frame of Usako and-

_Usako. _

I thought of her, then looked up at the girl towards me- _Satsuki, _she told me- spinning her hair around her index finger and biting her lip.

And then, all too suddenly, her lips were pressed to my ear. The heat felt scolding hot against the cold bite of the winter air as she whispered;

"Shall we go back to my place or yours'?"

A/N: Ooh, ending on a cliff hanger...What is Mamoru up to? Sorry about breaking Motoki and Reika up and making Motoki well..._ heh._ I've rewritten this chapter so many times and this is honestly the best I could come up with... Getting into Mamoru's angsty mindset is hard!

(1) _Ukifine, by Go! Go! 7188, Originally translated by Sumai and Ursula Owen. _

_Translator's note: 'Ukifune' is the name of a female character from the tale of Genji (in the latter, Uji-based chapters) who, having mistakenly committed adultery with a man, plans to drown herself but is saved and becomes a nun. In terms of the tragedies she endures and what she represents as a character, comparable to 'Hamlet''s Ophelia. Her name means 'drifting boat'._

_Home of The Blues also originally by Johnny Cash_


	4. Counting Sheep

Disclaimer: Je ne possède pas Sailor Moon, mes amies!

A/N: Thanks very much to InnocentSake for her lovely, eloquent reviews. Please enjoy :)

* * *

_Hey hey hey, this is Genko Shimuda here for Tokyo Radio! How are all you lovely people out there? The season of love is approaching with Valentines Day and with less than a week, we're devoting each day to only the best of love songs!_

"Taiki, turn that crap off." Yaten snapped, barely moving his eyes up from his magazine.

"Manager says it's a good idea to listen to the radio more, Yaten." Taiki said sagely, not matching the hostility of Yaten's tone, instead deciding to raise a cautionary eyebrow at him. "And, we have a show there in less than an hour."

"I really couldn't care less. This DJ annoys the hell out of me." He says, clipping each word.

_But first, the new releases: fighting for number #1 this week is the recently reformed_ Three Lights_ new rock focussed single, _Ukifine_, battling with the new punk girl group_ Apocalypstik's Cold Winter Boy._ Later on we have the Three Lights in for a talk and they will be answering our questions._

"Have you seen this new joke? They're spread across the page of every magazine this week."

"I thought you didn't care about the competition?"

"Shut up, Taiki."

I am barely following the threads of their conversation, more focussing on the warm breath of heat coming in from the radiator grid on the floor. A plain pad of paper lies on my lap, untouched for what feels like forever.

_"Depressed music don't sell, kid. "_

That's what our manager had told us when I presented him with _Ukifine_, the small piece of art I created one cold afternoon after literature class last year. I was bored with the homework, having to study the whole culture of a planet I was struggling to remain interested in, when the words came out fluid quick on my messy margin. I was so proud of myself; I think I practically skipped into Manager's office the next day, slamming the lyrics down on the desk like they were made of solid gold. But at that stage, he said ever-so-pointedly, our 'image' wasn't right. We were the nice, shaven boys in colour co-ordinated suits and flowers (wince). We couldn't talk about lost love without synthesized backing vocals and fancy imagery about the moon (second wince).

Then we came back, and suddenly _Ukifine_ was perfect.

I sink a little in my seat, starting to tap my pen impatiently on the blank sheet of paper. _Something like Ukifine. _Something 'marketable', something that would appeal to our fans that had grown up a little quickly in the past year; but it's gone. It feels like it's _all_ gone. Like every good ounce of song writing has drained out of my body in invisible vapours. Before I would be up until the dim hours of the morning writing, songs they had taught me to write that jingled along well, and now there's just a big sinking void where all my talent used to be.

"How's it going, Seiya?"

"Fine, Yaten."

"You haven't written anything!" He says snatching the pad out of my lap. "What happened? I thought you had it all down in here." He says, tapping his temple.

"Leave him alone, Yaten. You can't rush the creative process." Taiki intervenes.

"Well we have to if we don't want our air time to be taken up by these silly schoolgirls." He hisses, throwing the magazine to his side in a huff. Supposing that I should at least be somewhat curious at my 'rivals', I pick it up, shuffling to the centre fold.

"They're cute. Especially the lead singer; but then we always have to be, don't we?" (Wink, wink). "But I wouldn't be too worried. It's a passing fad." I say.

"And we aren't? C'mon, when we were first here we were a complete and total joke!" Yaten grumbles. "_Search for your love?" _

The whole room is filled with silence, like a collapsed circus tent. None of us really want to remember the lengths we went to in order to find our princess. I can practically feel us all mentally shuffling through images of TV chat shows, crowds of girls clamouring for our signature, even-

The _spandex. _Oh dear.

I stifle a laugh, trying to not aggravate the tension in the room. I scan across the faces in the magazines, taking in their names and faces.

"Endo Satsuki." I say. "She's the lead singer?"

"Uh huh."

"Too bad we came back as guys, huh? Maybe we could have given them a running in the looks department."

"I seriously hope you're not comparing me to one of the cheap girls masquerading as musicians, dear Seiya."

"Well, I don't know, this drummer Emi has your eyes, Yaten. She looks catty, too."

He flashes me a sharp look, his poster perfect androgyny ruined with a tight frown. If only the adoring fans could see him now.

"Now, now, children." Taiki says in a clear warning tone. We both surrender, the journey continuing in semi-comfortable silence until we reach the radio station.

Tokyo Radio station is a very urban building; all concave glass windows, slanted metal framework and linoleum floors. Posters of all the latest musical sensations litter the wide hallway, including one of us in our heyday. I notice me and Yaten both wincing as we spot it, before quickly hiding our expressions from one another.

"Nice view." Taiki says, remarking on the noisy city landscape viewable from the window.

"I guess." Yaten yawns, relaxing back into his chair.

"Hey guys!" A young guy, with choppy dyed blonde hair and tanned skin bursts into the room. I notice Yaten start a little in his seat, almost falling to the floor, and it takes all my composure not to start laughing.

"I'm Gendo Shimuda, we'll get started soon. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Espresso? Tea? Frapucinno? Ice water? I'd bring you beer or wine but that's not really a good idea when you're about to go on air is it? Hey hey!" He spills all his words together, trips them up, always with the goofiest smile I've ever seen. We all blink in unison, trying to decipher exactly what this guy has said

"Water..."

"...is..."

"Fine." I finish.

And he leaves.

"I told you I didn't like this DJ." Yaten grumbled and sunk back into his seat.

* * *

"That is IT!!" Yaten screeches, slamming the door with a thunderous thud. 

"Yaten, calm down!"

"NO, that is IT, no more radio interviews for me ever again!"

He continues ranting angrily, gaining some pensive looks from the various employees having to pass through the once quiet corridor. I just stand back, not concerned about my brother's little hissy fit or the fact that he's embarrassing all of us. Yaten throws in a few aggravated promises of quitting the band that punch hard and furious into the air. I notice that _Genki- Genda- ? _Well, _whatever- his- name- is_ DJ blinking in shock from behind the glass fortress he'd stationed himself behind.

"Forget it, forget it, that's IT! I need a drink; I'm going back to the limo!"

Taiki sighs with well worn weariness and turns to look pleadingly at me. I shrug.

"What? You're the one who always concerns himself in his little hormonal outbursts."

That seems to be enough for him, and he skulks off towards Yaten's direction.

"Your brother seems very spirited."

The voice is rich, very feminine, and at the same time very alien to me. I turn around, and sitting there in all her sauntering, pout filled glory is Endo Satsuki; lead singer of _Apocalypstick_, looking like any other made up nineteen year old girl trawling the streets of Shibuya looking like she wants some fun.

"Yeah well, he gets like that around this time of the month." I offer her.

She smirks, just smirks, her eyes invisible underneath her large Chanel sunglasses. Girls don't just _smirk _at my jokes; they giggle, they laugh, or they crack up; not this one, though. She just moves towards me, not in an overtly sexy way, just a way that shows me she's... _intrigued_ by me.

"I thought those questions were really unfair myself." She says, not making it sound like she was offering false sympathy, something else girls liked to do to me a lot. "Some people can't just accept that a band changes its sound sometimes."

"Yeah, well, we've changed." I say distastefully, trying to mentally erase all the memories of my early career.

"I know." She tilts her head, her streaked blonde hair fluttering around her face. I notice for a second how the colour almost matches Odango's, before shaking the thought off, trying instead to focus more on the pair of revealed eyes that are pinpointed on me. They're grey, almost silver coloured, and look striking against her dyed auburn hair. "I was a big fan. I was really surprised when I heard Ukifine myself. It's...eerie." She breathes the last word out in that husky way girls do sometimes that makes my skin prickle and my chest tighten.

"Thank you." I force out, for once feeling under the glare of a woman's attentions, not the other way round.

"Well." She fiddles with the buttons on my blazer a bit, picking off pieces of fluff and dusting the shoulders. "It was nice to meet you, Mr Kou."

"Nice to meet an old fan."

"Oh." She shapes her mouth into a cupid bow shape, starting to walk away. "I'm not an old one at all."

* * *

I shut my eyes later on that night, trying to ignore the shard of moonlight coming in through my curtains. Like the light pollution in Tokyo wasn't bad enough. I'd gone for a run, watched a late night soap opera, even read some of Taiki's poetry to try and get me off to sleep. Even counting sheep (an Earthling custom I'll never grasp the logic of) just made my thoughts buzz. 

Everything about_ her_ just ran through my mind at an even more ferocious pace than usual, mixed in with the memory of Satsuki's perfume and the urgency of having to write something new- _quickly, _otherwise the band would pale into insignifigance. Too much had happened in the past week.

She just _had_ to kiss me, didn't she?

I rub my eyes, the glow of the college note paper a stark white in my darkened room. I switch my nightlamp on, deciding just to write anything. And I write; long, vivid descriptions about her body, her hair, the way she smells. Before long, it's shaped into a song; a long, painful narrative of everything about her, from the brush of her schoolskirt against her naked knees in summer, to the way she runs. I finish at 3:14 a.m., my mind soothed by the feeling of success enough to get me off to sleep, until my alarm sounds for school.


	5. Static

A/N: Yes, I've been a bad updater -_bows head in shame-_. There's nothing more frustrating than editing a chapter. Sadly, I hate this chapter---but it was the best I could do. Yumerin's reviews persuaded me not to give up So thank you! I plan on writing the next chapter _really _soon to make up for the catastrophe you're about to read.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon.

* * *

"Are you OK? You look kind of pale." 

Mamo-chan cranes up his head to meet me, clicking his neck as he does.

"I'm fine." He says, shuffling his food around with his fork. His eyes go back down from mine and we carry on eating, the silence between us occupied by the low hum of conversation and the clatter of plates.

"How's school?"

"Hm? Oh, it's fine, the usual. Hard."

"Need any help?" He asks, his voice perking up a little.

I suddenly feel very shy, and take a sip of my tea in order to hide my expression for a moment. "No thank you. Ami-chan has it covered."

"OK."

Unazaki comes over to pick up our plates, and flashes us both a smile.

"Hey Mamoru-san, heard you and my brother painted the town red last night!"

_What?_

Mamoru's eyes are running with panic as I meet him, and Unazaki decides to eventually shrink away with our finished food in hand.

"What was that all about?" I ask calmly, playing with the small menu.

"Well," He coughs. "Motoki and Reika broke up and he dragged me along to celebrate." He pauses, his eyes swallowing up my expression. "It was nothing huge Usako, just a few beers."

"But you don't drink." I say pointedly, my eyes now fixed on his. I notice the slither of confrontation in my voice and try and erase it, sitting back in the booth and taking a few breaths. "No, that's OK, that's fine."

The silence is heavy while he finishes his black coffee, and we walk shoulder to shoulder outside. I wrap my coat around my body and rub my hands together. Suddenly, he grabs my fist, cupping over them with his bare hands.

"I want us to be OK, Usako." He says, his expression intent. "I don't want..." He swallows. "What happened to come between us."

I find myself smiling. "Me either." I draw myself into him, our bodies closer than usual when we were in public, but he didn't seem to mind. "We'll survive whatever fate throws at us, right? We always have."

He nods wordlessly, kissing me on the cheek before releasing my hands to the bite of the cold.

* * *

I'm just in time for Math when I arrive at school the next day. I say hello as I brush past the usual people, pausing as I turn my back, my mouth opening and closing quickly. 

He looks at me casually, like I'm a fixture in the room he inspects briefly every day, before saying squarely.

"Good afternoon."

I open my mouth, feeling the oxygen swirl in my stomach. "Good afternoon." I sit down, all too aware of his eyes fluttering around me, but never _on _me. I doodle on my math notes, trying not to listen to his conversation with Taiki about simultaneous equations. He used to talk to me like that; no terse good mornings, no eyes that didn't know where to travel.

I watch the clock tick past, feeling my eyes half droop as the teacher drags on about x-this and y-that. Why couldn't they make math more fun?

At Lunch we're all sat assembled in the cafeteria, trading bites of conversation about boys, our lives, music. For once our conversation blends in easily with the babble around us. There are no undertones of urgency we had grown accustomed to the past two years, and it makes me smile every day I'm with my dear friends.

"So, what do you think I should perform?" Minako asks to the group.

"I don't know. How about that new Apocalypstick song?" Mako-chan suggests, breaking open the tab of her coke can.

"Hm, I don't think so, that's an ensemble piece..." Her eyes widen a little after a moments hesitation. "Unless any of you want to perform with me?"

There are simultaneous exclamations of 'NO!' that makes Minako bolt back a little in her seat, before looking over us curiously.

"OK, OK, it was just a suggestion!" She laughs. "Doesn't anyone here want to do something for the school talent contest?"

More low rumbles of 'no' that makes Minako sigh.

"What about you, Usagi-chan?"

"No way!" I cough on my bite of sandwich, before sipping some water. "I can't sing or dance or-"

"So what?" She interjects. "Half the people who are entering can't."

"The Three Lights aren't even entering, Usagi-chan." Ami-chan says. "So there'll be an even playing field."

I hear their name and feel my eyes travel to where they're all eating lunch silently with each other, their faces glum and their eyes dead. What's wrong? I used to be able to ask.

"Wait? They're not entering?" Minako asks fervently, on the cusp of being excited.

"Well no. It seems natural seeing as they're so busy recording their new album to get involved with any extra curricular activities. Plus Seiya-kun is still so busy with the football season" Ami-chan explains.

"Usagi-chan? Are you O.K?" Mako-chan says, breaking my train of thought.

"Oh yeah, sorry." I say dumbly, taking a few more mouthfuls of my water to hide my expression.

"Hee hee! Usagi chan, do you know what this means?" Minako-chan giggles, grasping my hands and pulling me half way over our table at the cafeteria.

"Um..."

"We have a good chance of winning!"

"We?"

Ami-chan coughs a little, her face flushing. "Um, Minako-chan, Usagi-chan still hasn't agreed..."

"This will be so cool! We'll be like Pink Lady! Hee!" She says, her face beaming.

Across the cafeteria, our eyes meet, like soft static travelling across the chorus of clatter of plates and giggling that only he and I can sense between us. The pale fluorescent lights bounce off his shoulders, his eyes, highlighting everything about him. I'm vaguely aware of my friends, but like silhouettes cast against my bedroom wall I shut my eyes and ignore them. I find myself smiling at him faintly, and he smiles back. It's only a few seconds, but it means something. Maybe, maybe we can be friends again. Maybe he'll hear me sing at the talent contest in a few weeks time.

* * *

"Oi, Odango." 

I smirk, and swish my head around, ponytails whipping across his face. He scrunches his nose and touches his cheek.

"You're entering the talent contest, then?"

I feel my face redden; he must think I'm an idiot. I may be.

"Yeah."

He steps ahead of me, his hands stuffed in his pockets. I shuffle my feet around, feeling suddenly hot under the pallid light of the sun.

"Cool."

I think I must be beaming. "Really?"

"Yeah, Odango." He says, finally looking at me and smiling.


	6. Bruised pink

A/N: Yay, I wrote something...finally! Consider this a belated Christmas present. This chapter is sort of like a back-story to Mamoru's previous chapter, if you were curious. Please read, review, and revel! Happy New Years everyone.

Warnings: Mentions of sex (nothing that explicit, really) **but **do expect the rating to go up pretty soon, readers, so change your rating filters if you're looking for an update. Also, this hasn't been edited that well, but enjoy anyway, bwaha.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon. I do, however, now own two seasons of CSI. God bless my Mother, bahahaha.

* * *

_In my dreams, I am holding her. _

_She is as weightless as air underneath me. Her arms are limp, her breaths short, faint. _

_He gritted his teeth, taking in thin- cobweb breaths between his teeth even though the air wasn't sufficient- it swirled around him, as bright and as destructive as a hurricane, and her eyes simply wouldn't open. _

_Colour- simply a lack of colour everywhere on her, and in both of us, our hearts pale from our scarlet depths, bound together by a threadbare kiss. _

I wake up, panting, sweltering, my hair damp against my neck. A crack of light radiated across the room, like a blade cutting across bare naked skin. Like the veins that pop on my arm, threatening to burst with each fitful violent sleep.

It had been this way ever since our argument.

Since she had walked out on me.

It had started out menially enough: dinner, a movie, my place. Hands touched to avert the crowds, amiable smiles helped to fill up the silences.

We had grown tired of each other, and it showed.

And we were in the middle of kissing, when she burst out crying.

It wasn't one of her typical crying sessions- it wasn't a squawking type of cry, it was dry, desperate, and straight from the heart- and she wouldn't stop.

She said she didn't know whether she could do this anymore, and I knew 'this' meant everything, including us.

Chaos had affected her, it had changed her, made shadows fleet across her face where there used to be happiness and light. I resented my enemy more strongly than I had ever done.

I also resented myself.

What was I? I was a boyfriend who sat stiffly while his girlfriend collapsed into tears, a failure for the first time in his life.

A girlfriend who begged you to leave for Harvard, to leave you behind, choking out _please, please you have to go, leave me, don't _while you resorted to pelting out hurtful, poisonous words.

Words that made her leave, for him, even if it was only for a night.

I wake up, my eyes taking a while to adjust to the bleary light as I feel my hangover creep around my body. _Water,_ I needed water, and I shut my eyes tightly against the assaulting light.

The smell of coffee beans roasting sharpened my senses. I looked over my schedule and was relieved to find I only had one evening lecture.

I thought of calling Usako- we had coffee yesterday, and it was terse. There was something in her eyes; a bleak and slowly dimming light, curving away from me with every touch.

_I love her _

That night, it had choked in my throat, wrapping around it like vines.

And then she materialised; beautiful and fragrant, with cool skin, like I'd imagined how my Mother would have felt back in the chapters of my long buried memories, promising me an antidote.

I wanted so much to grasp it. I could taste the sweet relief of sex strip my mouth of moisture and leave me with a pulsing thirst.

I almost did it too, we shared a cab, and her hand crept up my thigh, pressing through materials and rabid to feel my skin.

The Love Hotel was nice, clean, a medicinal white building that reminded me of a hospital. No one stalked the corridors. It was clean, a clean place for such a filthy act I was about to commit, almost as if it was trying to scour my sins with bleach.

Then she kissed me.

It didn't taste of her, that was the problem, and the taste stirred within me, sick and alien and all-too-wrong.

So I pushed her away and vomited right on the sterile carpet.

In my heavy daze I was only vaguely aware of the scowl being painted across her full mouth. I suppose she felt she had to stay while I collapsed outside, the concrete sticking to my cheek.

She lit up a cigarette when I was done, motioning for me to sit down. She handed me a breath mint, which I accepted gratefully.

"What's your name?"

I blinked. "Chiba Mamoru."

She nodded, her eyes pinned somewhere else in thought, away from me. "Who's got you so wound up, Mamoru? Girlfriend?"

"Uh huh."

She laughed knowledgably, as if she knew the answer already. "Figures, you two been together long?"

"Three years." I said, rubbing my eyes with my palms.

There was a silence; she looked at me curiously for a second, the smoke curling, being scrawled like calligraphy out of that sensuous mouth. I looked at her, my eyes straining, like hot grit was coating them.

"What's wrong?"

I felt my throat start to close with tears. "I don't think she's in love with me anymore."

She was quiet again for a long moment, swallowing down her cigarette smoke and thinking, her fingers drumming on her knee.

"Why? Is there another guy on the scene?"

I felt my jaw stiffen. "Yeah, sort of." I laughed mirthfully, thinking of the first time I saw him, about how assured I'd been. I'd prided myself on the fact that I harboured no antagonism towards him- _her_- whatever.

That night, Usako had begged me for reassurance under the embrace of the full moon. It was also the first night we ever made love.

She had asked for response with words, I responded with limbs and hot breaths on unmarked skin, longing and thirst.

A part of it didn't feel right almost, after...'it'... she turned away from me, her shoulder blades stiffening under the pale light of the moon, her eyes wide open. I asked her what was wrong and all she would do is breathe out: '_nothing_'.

I wasn't even sure it was an answer to my question, she was saying it almost to herself, like a stream of thought she couldn't quite grasp on her own.

We had sex a few times since then, but it was empty, hollow.

She would always cry afterwards, she thought I never knew, the way her eyes were pinched pink. Afterwards I would change the sheets, almost erasing the memory, even though I never understood why it should feel so wrong. I had never pressured her, in fact, she was the one who almost always initiated it. Why did she do that when she was always so distant afterwards?

"Oi, Chiba-san."

I snapped alert to the sound of her voice, and her fingers clicking in front of my eyes, helping to focus them.

"What?"

"You didn't answer me."

"I'm so sorry, what did you ask?"

She scoffed, taking another drag before stubbing it out on her heel. "I asked..." She stood up, levelling out her dress and fixing up her hair. "Why you don't just let go?"

I stood up myself, my own smile approaching. "Things aren't that simple."

She stood looking at me for long again, her expression cryptically plain, before walking slowly and methodically towards me.

"Yes they are," She whispered, her lips crashing towards mine. For a moment I was stunned, my arms limp and frozen beside me, before I felt her warmth mould in with mine, like hot clay being shaped.

She released me, her eyes fluttering, her lips bruised pinker.

"Call me whenever you need it." She said, sliding her card into my back pocket. "Seems like you do, Chiba-san."

She tapped my chest, leaving me dazed, before hailing a cab.

I glanced at the card.

ENDO SATSUKI: 0895-657-293

* * *

A/N: _dramatic drumroll_ Do you get the twist?...Well, I do at least...heh...Seems she's playing them _both, _oh the scandal, however will Usagi react? 


	7. A carved smile, a healed heart

A/N: Happy New Years' everyone! Consider this a present Satory, hope there's enough Seiya x Usagi to satisfy your taste buds...

Disclaimer: I don't own it, not in 2006, not in 2007, never ever.

* * *

I centre myself in the middle of the gym, listening to the rain roar around the building, making the small room scream with vocals.

Tapping my foot, I circle around the painted lines of the basketball courts, wondering how long the rain will carry on for, listening to it's dynamics like it was a vocal piece.

_Crescendo, accelerando, pause, mezzo forte..._ The rain doesn't know when to stop, it's like a screaming soprano who has a gun pointed to her throat.

Hm, I never liked opera. Maybe that was a result of Taiki blaring it out of his room in the dim hours of the morning, but there was something too controlled about the singing, the harmony, even the lyrics.

The door swung closed, announcing her arrival. She was wearing a tight fitting pale pink tank top, which peaked up just above her navel: it was just basic gym wear, just basic gym wear... She bounced towards me, grinning, and I had to grin too. The girl always managed to drive a smile onto my face, even if it was a painful one; it was a smile none the less. That counted, right?

"I'm ready!" She chirped, her eyes alight.

I looked her up and down. "I can see that."

"What is this all about anyway?" She smirked, a hand on one hip. "You tell me to come to a deserted gym with you wearing my gym clothes? What are you up to, Mr Kou?" She joked, poking me in the ribs. Faking a wince, I batted her away, before straightening myself out.

"Don't flatter yourself."

"I'm not, I highly doubt I'm the first girl you've lured to a deserted gym anyway."

"Oh Odango, your perception of me pains me so." I say, mimicking a knife going through my heart with a fist.

"OK, OK, enough joking." She grins, mirroring my posture by puffing out her chest, ready for business. "What am I really doing here?"

"Training."

She blinks a second, her head tilting a little. "Training? For what?"

I sigh, stepping towards her and pushing her little button nose. "Odango, the talent contest is in less than two weeks, and I highly doubt you can hold a tune."

Her cheeks flare up. "Hey! You don't know that!" Her tone holds a smirk I can't see on her face yet. "For all you know, I could be a professional."

"Yeah, right." I snort, walking over to the portable HI-FI I'd brought with me. I switch it on, a simple instrumental tune spills out into the hallway, merging dissonantly with the acoustics of the rain pattering against every corner of the room. "Sing."

"What?" She squeaks. "Now?"

"Come on, it's just you and me." I say, squashing down my amusement at seeing her so stupefied. "Plus, it's Baa Baa Black Sheep, you must know it?"

"I'm not stupid Seiya." She huffs, blowing up a bang of her hair coming over her eyes.

I shove my hands in my pockets, my tone becoming condescending. "Then sing."

She rolls her eyes, slapping her hands on her hip bones, her mouth twisting as she discerns me.

"OK." She says, gripping her arms across her waist. _"BAA BAA Black sheep have you any wool? Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full..." _

"Wait, wait." I say, moving towards her. I grab her arms, untwisting them and locking them at her sides. "You can't sing anything with your arms folded."

"Why not?"

"Messes up your breathing, if you don't know how to breathe correctly, you won't be able to sing at all." I stand back, satisfied. "Now try again."

She does, choking out a warbled, confused version of 'Baa Baa Black Sheep', her eyes focussed on the ceiling instead of in my direction. I can see why. Anyone who belted something like that...

"OK, OK, stop." I say, wincing. "Not bad."

She gives me a questionable look, clearly seeing through me.

"OK, OK, it was bad. What do you expect, though? You have no training." I flick out the lapels of my jacket impressively. "Hence, why I am here."

I try to explain to her about the mechanics of the diaphragm, about how you have to almost change your mode of breathing to accommodate more air and gain a better sound when you sing.

"Inhale, 2..3..4..Good." I say, watching her chest slowly dip. For a moment I feel my vision zoom in on where I can see her ribs poke through, all the way up to the curve of her breasts. "And hold, good. Now exhale...2, 3, 4, and wait...2,3, and do it again."

We do it like this until she gets it at least moderately well. By the time we're finished, her cheeks are flushed pink with all the air she's had to hold in her cage, and I do my best to ignore how wonderful the extra colour looks on her.

"So, how did I do?" She says, her hands crossed underneath her chin, her eyes honing in for my approval.

"Good, just keep practising, we'll work on your vocal scales next week."

Her face drops. "Next week?"

"What, you didn't think that was it, did you?" I chuckle, starting to pack up the Hi-fi.

I expect her to protest, to squeak out an argument, but she doesn't. Instead she just sighs deeply, before smirking.

"No, I guess not."

I look at her for a second. "Yeah."

There's a long moment, where our eyes stay on each other, the atmosphere in the room shifting suddenly, and we can feel it creep over us like an ominous chill. That signal of attraction, deadly, lethal, especially with just the two of us _alone. _

"OK." I breathe out. "So, one last go?"

She nods brightly, chirping out an improved version of the nursery rhyme. Of course, it was still crude and unpractised, but there was a marked improvement that made me raise a smile in approval.

She was half way through the song though when I had to intervene.

"Wait, wait."

She stops suddenly, looking crestfallen. "What? Wasn't I breathing right?"

"No, no, it was fine, just—" I step behind her, not considering for a second how it may look when my hands curl around her stomach. I feel her stiffen in alarm when I press my palm into her soft stomach, guiding her body to move. "Keep yourself relaxed." I instruct. "Your posture is terrible, no, no, don't suck your stomach in." I raise my hand to her shoulders, hesitating for a moment, before skimming them down with my hands. "Keep them sloped, yeah, there you go, nice and easy."

I am then very, very, horribly aware of how close she is pressed towards me.

I can feel every contour of her; feel the hitches in her breathing; the soft tickle of her ponytails sweeping across my face.

I feel like saying something, but all I can say is:

"Your breathing."

"Right." She exhales. "2, 3, 4, hold, 2, 3, 4."

"That's good."

"It's too hard." She forces out between her ragged, sharp breaths. "I can't do it Seiya."

"Yes you can." I whisper, my hands still hovering over her stomach. "You can do anything you like."

"No, I can't, why can't you understand?"

We are close, close, yet I want to be closer. She is so pliable, moulding underneath me, melting with each breath I make slide down her neck. She is mine in this second, with the rain all around us, washing everything away. I move my hands up her arms, causing her to shiver, drugged by this black satisfaction that she is clay for me to mould. I ache, my own breathing moulding in with hers', the space between us humming with heat and longing.

_Want her, need her, kiss her_

I can't stop, can't stop myself. I take in a deep breath, lowering my lips to her shoulder, ready to press against her, make her mine for just this second-

Suddenly, the noise around us stops, left with only the soft metronome of raindrops sliding off the glass roof and dripping outside.

"It stopped raining."

"Yeah." She mutters, gently pulling my wrists away from her, and stepping forward. The heat between us cools down, leaving a barrier of crisp reality of what we had done, as slippery and as dangerous as a layer of ice.

Without looking at her, I clear up the hi-fi, the CD case, everything but the mess we just created by being close to one another.

"Usagi..." I say, just as she is about to leave. "I really, really want to train you."

She turns around, frowns, and nods. I watch her through the window as she runs through puddles, her legs kicking up like the morning after 'that' night, only now she refuses to look back at me.

* * *

The next day, I'm tossing a baseball up and down, trying just to concentrate on the regularity of the ball swishing through the air and back down into my palm. I twirl it around in my fingers, smoothing over the rough calluses in the leather, the raised stitch detail. 

I yawn, stretching my long legs out over Taiki's lap. He gives me a side glance, but then just returns to his reading.

Our Manager enters ten minutes late, his sunglasses slid half way down his nose as he nods in greeting. We all sit up, ready for whatever 'serious' and 'urgent' matter he had to discuss.

"Kay, boys." He grins, slapping his hands together in a dry sounding clap. "We have business to discuss."

We all sit silently, waiting for him to start as he settles his papers around and mutters to himself.

"You're going on tour." He announces.

I stare a little longer, trying to understand why this is such an important announcement. We did shows all the time, mainly confined to the Tokyo area-

"You mean a national tour." Taiki says, verbalising my thoughts before I manage to clasp back onto coherency. "Around the country."

"The hell?!" Yaiki spits out, his words as quick and as sharp as a bullet. "What about our schooling?"

"It's from the end of February to April 6th, till the end of Spring Break. You'll only miss two weeks." Manager says, shooting Yaten a quick but level warning glance.

"But...but..." I finally manage to croak out a few words, words seeming to be lost in tiny little bubbles of thought forming in my head.

What about Odango?

I wanted, I wanted to be with her.

_You can never be with her _

Hanging my head low, I listened dazedly as Yaten argued heatedly with the manager and Taiki tried to soothe the atmosphere. I would be away from Odango. Last time that happened, I barely lasted a few months before Yaten and Taiki insisted I needed to 'get over her' by, seemingly, being near her. Which meant I still dreamt about her, but then saw her, reinforcing every lovely curve of spun gold hair and every spot of rose petal skin was just as lovely as I had dreamt the night before. Yeah, it was a good idea, in theory. But when had I ever been able to follow the rational route?

They argue for a few more minutes; shouts turning into venomous comments, shrieking profanities dying down to bitter sighs. I kept quiet, my thoughts turning, before I finally relented.

"I'm for it." I said. My announcement cut through the tension in the room, crushing it into broken glass that no one wanted to step on.

"Seiya?" Taiki blinked.

I shrugged, standing upwards, looking my manager dead in the eye. "I'll do the tour, I have no problem with it whatsoever. We're musicians, right?"

The manager nodded deftly, all eyes tracing me as I walked out the room, into the cool air outside. Only one bubble of thought remained in my mind:

That away from her, maybe my heart would stop aching, at last.

* * *

She is sat on a rooftop, waiting for me, head bent over as she reads a magazine. Sometimes she turns her head to watch the football match below. For a moment I study her physicality; pink lips, big blue eyes, shimmering blonde hair that swishes every time she turns her head and smiles at me. My heart pounds, a dull ache, a fist of ice...

I cough. She turns her head upwards, and smiles radiantly. She folds her magazine up tidily, placing it by her feet.

"You wanted to see me?" She asks, her eyes piercing with curiosity.

"Yeah." I said, posing myself awkwardly. I lick my lips, waiting to tell her. _Odango, I'll be gone for a while. I'll leave after the talent show. _

Then she looks at me for a moment, a single moment, enough for us both to draw in breath. Her eyes are soft with concern, and she brings up her hand to touch my wrist.

"Seiya, is something wrong?"

I feel a sick feeling rise up, and I smile stiffly, shaking my head. "No, Odango, it's nothing."

Her smile deepens, and I think of those old Greek statues, of the lines that their masters carve to make sure they smile for all eternity. I would do that for her. I would paint a smile on her face, I would carve it, I would give her reason to laugh always.

I would not hurt her.


	8. Rollercoasters

_A/N: _No, I haven't abandoned this story, believe it or not. Various things, such as my social life, and schoolwork (which I should really be doing now) have got in the way. Review if you like, or throw stuff at me, I guess I deserve it, heh

Warning, the rating on this story **will **go up. It's not going to turn into a mindless lemon, but I do believe well...in depicting relationships, sex is a part of it, so it's only natural I include it in some shape or form.

* * *

_Chapter Eight_

_Usagi_

_Rollercoasters_

I've always loved The Sound of Music.

As a little girl, I would run over hills screaming out the lyrics, happy and feeling so free. I thought Julie Andrews had the most beautiful singing voice in the world. I still do, really, when I'm curled up on the floor watching it with Minako-chan.

This is of course, our training. Training with lots of chocolate and giggling.

"Liesl's boyfriend is so cute." Minako-chan giggles, breaking into her chocolate biscuit.

"If you like Nazis." I say quietly. Minako-chan shoves me, raising her nose indignantly.

"He betrays her too, he breaks her heart." I say, sinking into my quilt. Minako-chan shoots me an odd look, and I realise my voice sounds a little darker. I bite into my own biscuit, taking slow munches as the plot develops. Liesl loves evil, confused Nazi boy, Father is clueless, Julie Andrews pipes in with a feel good song about kittens and brown paper packages.

What would I sing about, being grateful?

I'd sing about my friends, about cheesecake, that powdery smell of a Mother's lap when you're upset.

"Is anything wrong, Usagi-chan?"

I sigh deeply, suddenly feeling tired, and my lids droop. "Minako-chan..."Though the words hitch in my chest, like they always do: _speak. _I used to be able to speak, but now it's like I'm being dunked underwater whenever I have to.

I feel her shoulders harden, and she turns to look at me square in the eye.

"Seiya-kun?"

I look down, ashamed, feeling heat cover my face.

This isn't the way it was supposed to turn out. Wasn't I supposed to feel attracted to him, and only him? Wasn't I supposed to feel just for that one person?

She strokes my hair a little more.

"It's..." She struggles, biting her lip and then relaxing again. "Just follow...what you feel."

"What if I feel two different things?" I ask, my tone a little hurried. "I know I love Mamoru, I do."

Minako-chan wrestles gently out of my grip, looking at me with a sombre expression. I stare at my hands a little, abashed at how dark the atmosphere has turned.

I bite down hard on my lip, feeling the words jumble in my throat:

'of course I do'

I know I do. Why would I touch him if I didn't?

But it's changed.

There's no fire anymore, I kiss him and it doesn't ignite fire in my belly. I make love to him and then run home, scrub myself clean until my skin is prickled raw.

I watched the Technicolor adventures in silence, listened as Julie twirled around, watched as she dipped her head in the dark of her convent, locking herself away from the man she loved as she tried to commit herself to her carefully planned out destiny.

I felt a little ill when the Mother superior started a high pitched 'Climb Every Mountain'.

Yeah, easy enough for her to say.

I muffled a sigh.

We finished the film. Outside it was raining lightly, a drizzle that disturbed the quiet streets like white noise on an idle television screen. I lent Minako-chan an umbrella. We had just finished saying goodbye; Minako-chan spread the umbrella, revealing a large pentagon of Hawaiian flowers on a pink canvas, already becoming darkened by the rain.

"Usagi-chan?" She turned around to see me, her mouth a tight line.

"Hm?"

"I..." She looked to the side for a moment. we'll all be here, no matter...no matter what you decide."

Before I even had time to reply, she whirled away, the flower shaped umbrella bopping away like a sailboat stranded on a grey sea.

And in the middle of the doorway, I broke down crying.

* * *

Me and Mamoru had a date arranged for later. I constantly paw away at my eyes, trying to wide the old tears and any fresh new ones.

I'm always crying lately- my Mother and I will be driving to the supermarket, and I'll be stood in the middle of the sweets aisle, staring at the colourful forest of shiny chocolate wrappers and I'll start sobbing. She has to take me to the car, pat my hair, and ask frantically what's wrong though I can't answer. All I can do is cling onto her, safe in the knowledge she is there, soft and warm and constant.

I hug him when I see him, trying to grasp back onto the same feeling, but something is missing, something small but vital.

"Hey." He says, kissing my lips softly. I walk into his apartment, shaking off and enjoying the small of pasta cooking.

We settle on the couch, quietly watching TV. He turns to me, wanting to kiss me, and I do. What do I have to do to be fourteen again, excited every time he looks at me?

His hands are on my thigh, and he's going deeper, until I'm pressed tightly against the couch. I feel the material graze my elbows. I taste coffee in him. Mamo-chan spit. I feel like rinsing my mouth out with bleach. I feel nauseous; I've been on the rollercoaster too long. Too long.

Under my bra now, fiddling with the pink bows, the lacing. He takes my top off and all I can think about is how cold I am; not about how very-much-naked we're getting.

To be honest, I hate sex. Julie Andrews never had sex with Captain Von Trapp. If only me and Mamoru could express our love through musical form.

Music, crud. Seiya, soft Seiya, nice safe funny Seiya helping my lungs explode.

Green jacket Mamo-chan, reliable, stern, strong, _mine._

"Usako." He breathes, his eyelashes fluttering on my skin as he kisses my naked stomach. I feel too naked (Usagi, you're naked, deal deal deal, you've been naked in front of him before. Just breathe, just breathe).

"Are you OK?" He asks, hovering above me, just in his underpants.

I bite my lip. "Yeah, I'm fine Mamo-chan."

He's inside me, and I want to scream. But I don't. I start crying.

I just ran out of there: ran through the rain, throwing on my clothes, soaking through my bra and underpants. I'm too panicked to feel ashamed. I want to get home, get in my bed, and stay there, make my own little world in between the blankets.

Luna is curled up in the hallway, and asks me what's wrong, but I lock my door. I choke out some excuse about being alone, which she only half buys, before walking away.

I turn on the loudest CD I have. I let the guitar bleed through the speakers, the lyrics are inaudible angry teenage screams, and I'm throwing everything around my room.

Seiya gave it to me, what a big surprise.

I scream my heart out. I scream everything. I let rage I've locked in for three years jump out of me like a monster, evil and ugly. It feels never-ending, this rage, this darkness, this—

Suddenly, it hits me, a punch to the chest. Voices creep into my head, not like the voice that tells me when I really _am _full, or that I am acting just a tad sillier than I should be.

No, it sounds strange. It's a cold hug.

"_Surrender to yourself." _

I do, then I realise I'm bleeding.

* * *

I'm in someone's arms, and they're crying and rock me back and forth like I'm broken. I smell a scent I'm sure I know mixed in with the smell of damp rain against their clothes, a perfume I inhale through my nostrils.

"Odango." I hear, and I pass out.


	9. You Have Beautiful Eyes

Chapter Eleven

'You Have Beautiful Eyes'

Mamoru

A/N: Warnings for language, mentions of sexual content

* * *

I grab onto the nearest glass I can find and pour myself another brandy. There is no taste in my mouth anymore, just dryness, just something I can't find wrong. There's an equation in my head about her that I can't figure out. There's an answer skirting between the lines of where my head was two hours ago and the place where I'm drowning now in jazz and liquor.

Odango. Bitch. Girlfriend. Lover. The girl whose laughter sounds like violins, whose body reminds me of a gap in time between happiness and sadness, whose eyes make me want to cry.

I pick up my phone and dial a girl who-isn't-her. The radio picks up a song from the air. It's a song in English but the first words are in Japanese _Me-totemo-utsukushi-i-desu-ne  
Totemo-utsukushi-i-me-wo-shitemasu_

It says 'you have beautiful eyes'. And before Satsuki even picks up, I'm crying, crying out words and my head hurts so much I hear ringing in my ears, like I ascended in an aeroplane too fast. I'm not even aware at the silence at the other end.

"Mamoru-san?"

Somehow Satsuki is above me. I must have fallen asleep. Or I'm hallucinating. For some reason the plausibility of this cracks me up. I've never heard of someone bawling one minute and then laughing hysterically the next, and neither had Satsuki, who inched away from me.

"Oh, Mamoru-san." She says, like she's speaking, but how do I know she's not an optical illusion? I ask her this and she hisses through her teeth and digs her hips into mine. She kisses me so hard and fast she must be real because my mouth is the same colour as hers', cherry red, like the blood I made Usako spill on the last night it felt like we were ever in love.

"I'm real. I promise."

And that's enough for me, even if I'm unsure of the truth.

* * *

I wake up, again, shifting and bleeding and running in and out of consciousness. I feel drunk but it doesn't matter. I feel like nothing, I've never felt this awful, I've never felt as if my body and my mind are a never ending track of nothing leading to nothing and ending in nothing.

She is nothing. She is warmth. A body. I turn away from her and get some air.

"Mamoru-san." She purrs, and lights a cigarette with her pale lips. "Oh, that was…"

"Don't." The tears start to rise again, that I have – the words will not form- done the worst ever thing I could ever do to the most precious most sacred most beautiful thing in my life ever, ever, ever. In the bed we were meant to share.

"What's wrong?" She says, crawling to where I am on the couch, a shirt of mine covering her. "I don't care if you're still pining after her. I don't care you won't look at me when you-"

Sleep with me. Did I sleep, or just convulse with that stranger's body? She's on me again, skin against skin, mindless numb organs rubbing against their tired and soft counterparts like a grind that makes me just roll my head back and enjoy the warmth I haven't felt from her in months.

"Get off me, please." I whisper, and she slides off, goes to change into a tight dress that personally I find disgusting but she's a body and I need a body next to me while she's gone to stop from going crazy oh yes I do.

The phone rings as I stare at a crack in the ceiling that looks like a hairline fracture on an x-ray. I don't move, as if the crack has paralysed my tired legs with its sticky thighs. Satsuki plucks up an eyebrow and chucks the phone to me. I grumble a hello.

"It's Seiya."

At this point I just don't care. "What?"

My speech must sound lazy, or detached, because right now it feels as if I have a cloud in my mouth. He pauses.

"It's Od-Usagi."

"What?"

There's an even longer pause, and I can feel his hair ruffle against the receiver. "She's in the hospital."

* * *

I feel sick, cold, bad, guilty, and I run out of adjectives to basically describe myself as the biggest fucking bastard to ever walk this planet half way to the hospital. By the time I get there I realise it doesn't matter, for now, for now is the moment where she needs me. Rows of beds speed past me as I go to her room, and I imagine every lover who's ever made a mistake staring at me, naked, from the tight bed sheets with red rimmed eyes. I need to start drinking less.

She's asleep in a tight coil, more peaceful than when she is walking wide awake with me, with her family hoverring near her. Her Father is silent. Her Mother is watching over her. Her brother looks at his hands. I feel like leaving, disgraced, but I walk up to her because she always draws me back.

"The doctor says she passed out from exhaustion." Her mother reports. "I had no idea…she was so stressed."

"It was you." Her Father says, his voice deep, and I can't retort. I was part of it, maybe I was all of it, I underestimated the effect Galaxia had on her, just expected everything to return to normal.

"Then I'm sorry." And I sink into a chair, and wait for her.

* * *

"Espresso?"

Again, a stranger is above me. Or who I wish was a stranger. Sadly I know him now very well, because he occupies my mind whenever she's there too.

"Thank you." I say, taking the polystyrene cup. I take a few bitter gulps. He watches her, well, we both watch her. He eventually takes out a book; _David Bowie, the Story of Glam _and we sit in a natural, sort of easy silence.

She sniffles. Her family wanders in and out. At 5:43 pm she wakes up. Her eyes are like glass marbles for a moment, before sharpening, alert and frightened as she spots us both.

"Mamo…Sei-" She spits out a few coughs. Seiya rushes over to give her some water. With one hand he guides her neck and the other he makes sure she doesn't drink too quickly. He is so gentle and for a moment I am dumbstruck, before he turns to me and says; "You should go get her Mother" and I rise from her seat.

Her Mother flutters, cries, then runs away. I don't have the strength to follow. Instead I go find a payphone. I dial Satsuki's number.

"Hello, tiger."

I frown. "Stop it. I can't believe what just happened. I'm ashamed of myself. It can never happen again."

I can hear the smirk, "Some speech." A pause, occupied by the sound of rubber shoes on the lionleum floors. "What are you doing later?"

"My girlfriend's in the hospital, I'm staying with her."

"Oh, did she slit her wrists while you were coming inside me?"

And I can't believe myself. Anger envelopes me and all I can bite out is a, "Fuck you, Satsuki, just fuck you."

"Usako." I say, rapping my knuckles on the door. Her family had left for a bit and Seiya had gone. She turns to me and blinks a little, then slowly smiles, and looks happy. I feel nauseous.

"How are you feeling?"

"You know, tired." She says, her eyes half shut. Her odangos are coming undone and the loose hair sprays on the pillow like spun gold. She has never looked so beautiful to me, really, and each breath is frosted with a thousand regrets and each glance at her feels painful.

"I'm so sorry, Mamo-chan." She says raspily. "I was just…things have been hard for me, _so _hard, and I'm taking it all out on you… I just, nothing makes sense anymore to me. Nothing. Everything that was normal to me before just—it's so hard, everything, living is so hard."

"Stop it!" I shout. The guilt is crushing me at a low pressure, like drowning underwater. She looks at me with eyes the colour of extinguished flame. "Nothing, NOTHING is ever your fault. Don't you see? Don't you see I'm the one in the wrong, the one ALWAYS in the wrong?"

"Mamo-chan…" She stretches out to touch me, but no, it will burn me I am sure. An angel shouldn't tarnish her fingers with something so dirty.

"I've never deserved you." I rasp out. "You're so good, and I'm so bad, I've never ever deserved to be near you. But you chose to love me for so long…Now you're seeing it, you're seeing how you deserve someone so much better, so so much better than me."

Seiya walks up behind me and puts an unwelcome hand on my shoulder.

"Calm down, you're frightening her." He whispers into my ear. It envelopes me again and my muscles shake with the impact of skin meeting skin. Usako screams and I see blood on the cuff of my shirt and my knuckles. Seiya is groaning on the floor.

"You fucking bastard." Seiya splutters out. He lunges for me, growling like an injured tiger and onto Usako's bed. I feel him lay into me, pummeling his fists into my face.

"You fucking son of a bitch, you treat her like crap and you KNOW it."

"Just say it." I snarl, our faces centimetres away, blood mixing in with each others'. "Say you love her, for god's sake, just SAY it, for once!"

"I love her!" He tightens his hold on the collar of my shirt. "I love her, and I can see that she's falling apart. Why can't you?"

Two nurses rush in and pull us apart. We still rage. One nurse exclaims something and rushes over to Usako who is now leant over the bed, having vomitted then passed out, hair slick with sweat and lips parted.

"She had another panic attack." The nurse says, turning to both of us. "You two, out of this hospital, NOW!"

* * *

A/N: For those of you who have been _so _patient and loving with this story, you'll be relieved to know I've finished it. Three more chapters to go. Don't forget to review! Lots of love.


	10. MATURE!

I take a tissue to my nose at a public bathroom. It smells just like the hospital. I bash my fists against the faucet until tiny cuts appear. I could just kill that son of a bitch. I imagine dangling him off a multi-storey building. Then I realise I've bled all down my face and unto my (very new, very expensive) Prada shirt and swear.

I feel just ready to give it up and suffocate myself down a toilet when my phone rings.

"Hello?" I answer in an accusatory tone.

"Whoa, easy there." Taiki answers. "I'm the one who should be angry."

I throw another tissue down the sink and wet a fresh one. "What do you mean?"

"The recording? The one for Music Station in thirty minutes? The interview and performance, you big dolt?"

I'd smack myself if I wasn't already in enough pain. "Oh yeah, I got…sidetracked."

"I bet you did." Taiki says with a scoff, before smoothing his voice. "What's wrong? Will you be able to make it?"

Forget it, he can wreck my love life but no way is he going to wreck my career. "Sure thing. I'll catch a cab."

I run into the lobby of the recording studio. The receptionist gives me a frightened look as I clutch at my nose with a hankey the taxi driver gave me so I wouldn't bleed all over his seats. But she recognises me and points me in the right direction.

Taiki and Yaten are already in make up. Yaten yelps as he spots me and does a pale little shudder.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"Long story." I say, my voice muffled as I try to stem the flow of blood. The make up girl twists her lips and hesitantly starts to put foundation on my forehead.

"You're covered in blood." Taiki says, unblinking, shutting his book oh so noiselessly. "Did you get in a fight?"

I don't answer.

"Oh for goodness' sake." Yaten sighs angrily. "You can't go on air like that. Why didn't you go to the hospital?"

"I was in the hospital when I got the bloody nose."

Yaten snaps. "Seiya, if you tell me you beat up someone who was _seriously sick _I will actually castrate you."

"I didn't!" I yell, but it hurts, and the blood starts to clot. The make up girl gives up and timidly leaves the room. Taiki pinches his eyes and starts to think. Yaten bends down to inspect my face and goes, "Holy--!"

"We're on air in less than ten minutes." Taiki interrupted (he hates foul language). "What do we do? Say you're sick?"

"No way! This is a matter of pride, I'm going on."

"Ugh." Yaten grunts and throws his arms up in the air. "Might as well let him go on, Taiki. As soon as the headline _Sick Starlight picks fight with cancer patient _appearsour careers will be over anyway."

The studio audience was deathly quiet. The host; an elderly man with dark sunglasses; felt the rim of his cue notes with alarming professionalism and proceeded to ask the questions. His guest host had proceeded to burst out crying and lock herself in her dressing room as Seiya shook her hand with two tufts of bloodied tissue stuck up his nostrils.

"So, tell me about the inspiration behind your new album, _Twilight?" _

"Well, Mr Kamuda…" Taiki started with his easy, unaffected (and decidedly more adult) air. "During our break from the industry we had a lot of time for personal reflection. We found ourselves maturing more and so this had a very significant resonance in our work."

"Yes, some critics are calling it 'our pretty boys growing up'. How do you respond to claims that you used to lack credibility?"

"It is true that we used to be under the control of the record company more. But then, a lot of the music industry is based on image and that image is manufactured. We were young and fell under this influence. But we were still quite serious artists. We were just young."

I stared, how did he come up with so, so, much nice sounding things?

"Personally, I hated those suits." Yaten added. We all laughed (well, I snorted a kind of laugh).

"Yes Yaten, recently you've come more to terms with your love of old school punk. Is it true one of the rejected songs for the album was called…erm…_Crank up the Black Death Metal Baby?" _

Yaten's jaw tightened as he fought a tirade about our 'prissy boy songs' that me and Taiki had veto-ed him on. "Yes, it was a little…unsuited to the album."

The host laughed, revealed a map of creases on his face that stretched all the way down. I was a bit entranced-probably due to the lack of blood- before he asked me a question.

"And you, Seiya. Do you think of this work as a big artistic achievement?"

"Oh, dethh-initely." I groaned out, grinning as casually as possible. "A lot more matthuree."

"Excuse me?"

I said a bit more forcefully; "Matthure!"

He strained and leant in closer; "What?"

I summoned up all my breath and yelled out; "MATURE!"

When I looked back towards him, the sticky balls of tissue were sliming its way down his face. He didn't move, his mouth only twitched slightly. Yaten groaned a whisper, something like 'oh shit oh shit' and Taiki let out a kind of womanly giggle that he stopped after the first time. I was still hunched towards him, gazing at the blood as it made it's way down his tanned cheeks. I moved out to reach for them, before he swatted me away, and punched me square on the nose.

I woke up and smothered out the blackness with my knuckles. I groaned as the pain spread all over my face. I touched my swollen cheeks and felt the bandage wrapped around my nose. I shut my eyes again and tried to concentrate on any other part of me that didn't hurt. But I couldn't and instead just bit into my pillow.

"I heard a rumour from the nurses that 'that no good ruffian had come back in'." A voice called out, and it felt warm, and I knew that feeling that cracked open like golden syrup deep in my belly straight away. "I knew it wasn't Mamo-chan, he's too proud. Plus when I bumped into Taiki and Yaten and they told me that famous guy off Music Station had punched you in the face."

"My nose…?"

"Is broken, but only in one place, the Doctor says you were lucky." She reached out to touch it, but even her touch hurt. "Oops, sorry."

"It's OK." I say, and take her fingers, kiss them one by one. "I'm happy just to see your face."

Even her fingertips turn hot. "Se-Seiya…"

"I'm not trying to make a move, really, I'm not. I'm just so happy you're here, like, _here." _

She smiles a quiet pretty smile. "You are weird." She sits down and wraps a shawl round her shoulders. I open my eyes to see her properly. She's in her usual pink pyjamas, and underneath the fabric I can see her little pink belly curve out underneath, and it makes me smile. Even from here she feels warm. "Seiya…I'm so sorry about what Mamoru did."

I rest, letting out a sigh as we both rest on the blankets. I bring her head to a tilt so she's resting on my thigh. I see her go red again from her collarbone to the tips of her ears.

"Are you comfortable?" I say, stroking her hair with my fingers. She nods and closes her eyes. It does feel remotely even that romantic—just, very intimate, very known. The curtains are open and the wind brushes through them, making ridges and creases on the white fabric. Outside I can see the tops of trees.

"It's been such a scary day." She mumbles into the blanket. I reach the nape of her neck and massage it.

"I know. But tomorrow will be a good day, I promise."

She looks up at me and knots her brows together. "How do you know? You ALWAYS seem to know."

"Because I'll make it better. I promise that you'll have a fun day tomorrow."

She gives me a cynical look with one of her bright blue eyes. "What, like, ferris wheels and toy bears?"

"If you like."

She rests again, and rubs her cheek against the knitted blanket. "That does sound kind of fun, but-"

"But, why 'but'?" I say, fiddling with one of her stud earrings. "Why do we have to worry about anything, huh? Why can't we just have a fun day out, just Odango and Seiya?"

"Because I'm not just 'Odango'." She sighs, getting up and fixing her hair. The room seems to get a little darker. "I'm…a lot of things. Even just then…that was wrong, being with you like I'm supposed to be with…"

"Him? Him, huh?" I snap, and there's a darkness in my voice I haven't seen in a long time. And neither has she, she steps back and looks down on the floor. Instead of turning red her eyes start to gleam. "Hey, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I take her by the shoulders and pull her into my chest. She lets out a few squeaks, a shudder, then just breathes heavily into my skin. It sends a current of warmth down my chest and then…

"Seiya."

I look down. "Oh shit, I'm so sorry Odango."

I turn around, into the passage of air from the window, and try to calm down. My chest feels tight and the air too stagnant around me. I feel warmth the shape of a butterfly press down on my shoulder.

My mouth turns dry. "O-odango…"

She presses even harder down on her lips. "Shh." Then another kiss, this time on my shoulder blade. "It's OK."

"Why…I thought you said…"

"It's just us, you said." And now she scrapes her teeth along my shoulder, and I shake, and feel a kind of warmth so strong I just have to relax where her hands and mouth are roaming. "Just us, for a few minutes."

"OK."

Her hands roam down to where I'm hard. She feels its shape, caresses it, and Jesus oh God what the hell is happening… I moan, and she moans too, so softly. I turn towards her and it's all a rush, the blood is pumping so loudly through me. I kiss her, and she opens, a sweet butterfly blooming against me. I crush her against me as to imprint this moment on my body and mind forever. I push her against the wall, I forget how small she is, I forget the point where I was sane and push my thigh against hers' and feel her breasts rise with each heaved breath. She grabs at my hair as I feel the creamy skin beneath her bra. So hungry, I've been so hungry for so long. She starts to try and peel off my hospital gown.

Oh God, this is happening, its happening and I can't stop. It's as beautiful and as fast as I always expected it to be. It's so sweet and charged and electrifying. I am going to stay like this forever, with our bodies mingling together, our kisses deep and feverish and the taste of want, just simple unadulterated dormant want.

"Ah hem."

It's Taiki and Yaten. I feel myself falling and in her eyes I see the same. She backs herself against the wall and folds her shawl tightly around her. I turn to them. Yaten is smirking and snapping his bubblegum with his teeth.

"I see our patient is recovered."

"Stop it." Taiki warns, and walks to me, hugs me, and nods in recognition to Usagi. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better, Miss Tsukino."

She opens her mouth to speak, but then just smiles, and brushes past Yaten as she leaves. I want to tell her that was the most incredible moment of my life, and no matter what I am going to make you the happiest girl in the entire world.


	11. Flower

I go back to my bed and prop my feet up. Inside me everything feels like a flower; my breasts, my stomach, even the fingers that he kissed. My Mother is waiting when I get back, fixing my sheets.

"You were in the bathroom long, feeling OK?"

Everything registers a beat behind me. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine."

"Good. I'm going to stay here tonight. The doctor says you should be fine to be discharged in the morning." She fluffs up my pillow, and I slip beneath the colours, my heart gradually slowing. She strokes the top of my head and kisses it. "Oh my sweetheart. I promise when we get back you'll get the chance to relax, OK? I had no idea you were so…" She stops suddenly, picks up my clean set of pyjamas, and just smiles. "Would you like something?"

I couldn't possibly eat (for once) and shake my head, but because she's a Mother, she finds something else to do; "Oh, you need more ice water. I'll be just a moment."

I settle into my pillow, release the clasp on my bra, and feel the ghosts of his touch all over me. I had no idea… how good it would be. How his skin would feel like _that, _how grabbing me would send me flying, how…

I stop.

I think of Mamoru. Guilt washes over me again, like a dark cloud. Outside fine rain patters quietly against the pane of glass. I tighten the covers around me.

He was so angry earlier. I've never seen him look so upset with himself. His eyes were darker, darker than any black cape fluttering in the night, darker than any kiss. I take an invisible sip of water.

When he had lunged for Seiya… It scared me, I froze, all I could do was panic. It was so immobilising, me being so perfectly still while they moved so quickly, like dancers, whipping out blood and words I'd never heard _either _of them say like _that. _

I wonder where he is now.

These thoughts make me feel like I have poison in my mouth. It hurts to swallow so I don't. Like everything I do nowadays I just stay very still. I don't even think I make movements when I breathe. Something snaps. Inside it's a very audible break, like a piece of wood breaking open, or the crack of an egg shell on the tip of a bowl. I don't think anyone else can hear it. My Mother rushes in and runs her hand through my hair and says 'sweetie sweetie are you OK? Talk to me' but I can't. I can't do anything. I spend the rest of the night with her hugging me and talking to me while I don't respond. I know what she's saying, but I can't talk, because inside is a very very awful scream.

I spend the next two days in hospital. I manage to say I don't want to see anyone except Mother. The psychiatrist comes to see me, and all I can say is; I'm very tired, I just want people to leave me alone for a bit, that's all. He leaves after a while. He asks if I always feel down.

"Yes, well, most of the time." I say quietly.

He has a bald head that bounces off the light. "Anything bothering you in your life? Boyfriend? School? Family?"

I just shake my head, not as in 'no', just as in 'don't ask me that please'. I think he understands.

"Do you ever have any suicidal thoughts?"

"No." I say definitely. "I couldn't do that to my family or my friends."

He says 'hmm' and it annoys me because I don't know what 'hmm' means.

"People, have a habit…of depending on me." I try to articulate. He looks interested now and bites his pen. "I'm so tired. I feel like everyone's pulling me in a million different directions."

"How long have you felt like this?"

"About a year." I say, and I rock slowly forth on the balls of my feet then back again.

He stares at me, and I feel shy and look away. I fiddle with the material of my pyjamas and wrap my shawl around me like there's snow in the room.

"You suffered an acute panic attack." He tells me with a deep voice. "These million different directions are obviously proving too much to handle. If I were you I'd try my best to head in just one."

The first day I'm back at home both Seiya and Mamoru both call in the first ten minutes. Luna is outside, sleeping, and jumps up to talk to me; but I shut the door, lock it, despite her hushed pleas. I crawl into bed and wait to sleep, and I do, for hours and hours. On the second day both Mamoru and Seiya try to see me, but my Mother is a proud fortress at the door. The third day Shingo slips a note saying; "I love you" under my door and I cry for the rest of it. The next day I watch TV but then feel sick at how bright it is and then just lie under my covers so I can stop panicking, because everything feels safe under here.

My Dad knocks at the door in the evening every night.

"Can I come in?" He whispers. I let him in on the fourth day. When I ask the day he says March 12th. He hands me a sandwich and I feel bad because I only take two bites, but he says it's fine, and hands me a milkshake that I do manage to keep down. We sit and watch a entertainment programme, but then Seiya is on it and I feel sad so he switches my TV off and hugs me. I rub my cheek against his itchy jumper and we both start crying. I'd forgotten how my Dad smelt of peppermint and well, Dad.

At the end of the week I take a shower. I go downstairs and clumsily measure the eggs and flour for a cake my Mother is making. I sit down and have dinner with my family and laugh at Shingo's stupid jokes. But I feel OK. I fall asleep on the couch watching _Free Willy _with my little brother. My Mom and Dad wrap us both up with a blanket.

On Monday I'm OK to see a friend. I see Rei first. She paints my toe nails a hot pink in my bedroom.

"My Grandfather is seeing a woman…she's near his age, but she's lovely, owns a bakery down the street. I'm glad, because that means that I can go to University maybe to do a music course."

"Him, settling down?" I giggle. Then we relax on my bed and talk about everything, years as friends, and she holds my hand and tells me she loves me.

"You're my best friend." She is choking up, and my eyes feel warm too. "I'm so sorry you had to be put through this."

I squeeze her hand tight, because I'm sorry too.

My Mother hands me a bunch of magazines to read, magazines with bright pink fonts and advertisements for shampoos and Disneyland Tokyo on every other page. I read through them, looking at concerns for girls my age. On page 52 I see him smiling.

_Seiya_, his name is written beneath him with the title; _the idols that all girls want? _

It says:

_Yesterday at a concert in Ueda Park in support of a cancer charity, Seiya Kou (17) of the Three Lights, performed a surprise solo acoustic song. The song was a poignant end to what was a memorable set, featuring songs from both their albums. This one, however, has only been recently written by Seiya and isn't featured on any of their albums. _

_When asked about the song, Seiya candidly revealed; "I've often used music to send a message to people who were very far away from me. This is for a girl whose always been a bit too far away for me to reach. I hope she hears this, I hope she knows how much I love her. _

_The chorus of the song, 'I will make the sun shine again', is as follows: _

_I saw you shine, I saw you falter, _

_We both always treaded in these shallow waters _

_Tip toeing between happiness and regret _

_But I'm never going to forget my promise_

_And I promise that I will make you smile_

_I will make the sun shine again _

_Already fans are asking the question: who is Seiya Kou's secret love? _

I was dressed in five minutes. Outside the heat of the sun trickled down me like thick sparkling liquid. The bus to where he lived only took ten minutes, and all the time I was smiling, smiling because I knew now what to do.

I knocked on the door of his apartment. When he opened the door he was panting, sticky with sweat, and naked.

I knew straight away, and even as I saw the naked body underneath his sheets, my expression didn't change. I didn't feel a thing.

"Usako, I can explain."

"This is over." I say. "But I can't believe it was like this."

He looked at me with more truth than he had ever done. "I was hurting."

"So was I." Usagi felt her voice drop. "But I didn't…I didn't do this…" I feel my throat thicken, but I stop, clench my fists and find my voice again. For the first time in months I feel brave. The curtains filtered in pale light and the apartment died for her that very moment, like a flower wilting. Satsuki puts on her bra and shimmied past me like an icy wind. She doesn't even look at my face.

"I'm sorry." He says.

"So am I."

"I don't want it to end."

I look down at the dirtied bed sheets. "But it did." Not crying, I slide off my ring. It's not angry. I know this was inevitable.

"Can I just ask one question?" He asks, still wrapped in a towel, staring sadly at the diamond that now looked misty and fake.

"Yes?" I say.

"Did you come here to put this back on…or to return it?"

I turn from the door. I can't answer, I can't leave him with the hurt because, there is still love there.

I break down in the supermarket staring at frozen turkeys. I spend the past three hours treading streets, back alleys, trying to find an answer in shop windows and bowls of half eaten ramen. But no answer came. No answer told me why I'd stopped loving the man I was destined to fall in love with. No answer as to why he'd slept with another woman. I walk to a shrine and wander among bronze buddhas as the fragrant Winter evening fell. Do I love Seiya? I don't know. Do I even NEED to know?

I stop at at a supermarket. It was so bright and white and sterilised. Right now it felt like heaven; neat packages, ordered correctly, a cold section you could dip your hand into so your fingers would turn red. Then it was closing time and they tried to move me but I cried. They try to touch me but I just fall to the floor and let it out until I am almost sick. Mother picks her up, glassy eyed but stronger than she ever was. Sailor Moon's strength doesn't compare in any way with that of a Mother's. We drive around Tokyo until I fall asleep. That night Mother slept with her arms wrapped around me in the backseat of the car as a film of frost developed on the windows, like a barrier to the outside world.

In the morning, we all decided.


	12. The sand between our toes

The stretch of beach was a mile long and made a long curve into the horizon. After stepping off the taxi Seiya carefully took off his trainers and walked barefoot onto the warm white sand. The wind whipped his hair and he enjoyed the smell of the pure sea salt air. He understood why she was here, finally, he did. Though he had never been angry with her, he had always been confused.

In the distance she only made a smudge on the horizon. She was wearing a black rain coat and a pink jumper. She was looking onto the sea with a peaceful expression before she spotted him. He broke out instantly into a clumsy run across the sand. He grabbed her, twirling her around, before crushing her with his arms.

"Odango."

She smelt like she used to, felt like she used to, smiled like she used to. He swore just then the sun made the decision to shine.

_Six months earlier… _

The backstage panic bubbled throughout. Everywhere there was a confetti of sequins, of make up, of multi-coloured feathers. Usagi hunted, looking for her friend. She was sat at a dressing table fretting over the ruffles in her costume, before spotting her friend's face in the edge of the mirror.

"Usagi!" She yelled, running to hug her. Usagi smiled into Minako's shoulder. "How have you been? Oh I tried to see you but your Mother said you were too…"

"Minako, it's OK."

"Ugh…god, look at me, all…ruffly." She giggled. "I'm on in twenty minutes. I'm so scared."

"I came to apologise, for…well, forgetting our little double act."

"Oh Usagi." She said, wrapping her in her arms again. "Please don't say that. I'm just happy you're OK." She drew her away and flashed a giant, pearly white grin. "Plus I found a girl in drama club to come sing with me. She has a recording contract and everything!"

"And I also came to say goodbye. I wanted to wish you luck."

Minako's face dropped and she felt the blood drain from her arms and legs. "What?"

"I'm going away for a while to…relax."

"Where will you go?"

"To family, in Osaka."

Minako looked around for some clue what to do. "For how long?"

"However long it takes."

"Oh Usagi." She said, starting to cry. Usagi grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight. "Don't cry. You're a star." She smiled then for the first time in days. "And I promise to come home to you all someday."

The performance was stunning. Minako's voice harmonised perfectly with her partner. Minako twirled on the stage with perfect grace and energy. From the wings she smiled at Usagi every now and again. When the song finished Usagi cried for her friend. Confetti poured down her and Minako's eyes brightened with applause. It was at that point she knew it was okay to leave. They would all be fine on their own for a while.

A taxi was waiting outside to take her to the airport. The halls were empty, but she was stopped, and that grip was so familiar she wasn't frightened for a second. His voice broke through the silence, shredding it apart.

"You're leaving."

Usagi nodded wordlessly.

"If you stay here, I can make it all better. Let me show you." He pleaded, down on one knee, clutching her hand fiercely. His eyes were full of grief, of loss, and Usagi felt like she was staring into flames whenever she looked at him.

"You can't, Seiya. I'm sorry." She said.

"Why?"

"Because…I don't…I don't think I love you."

At that point Seiya let go. He fell to the floor and stared dumbly at her. Despite it all, he was always convinced she felt the same. But her eyes were hard. His lips tightened and he looked away. By the time he was ready to ask 'why' the doors had swung open.

"How have you been?"

"Good." Usagi said, her eyes squinting with the wind. "My Aunt and Uncle have been really nice. I walk their dogs in the mornings on this beach. It's so relaxing here."

"Hmm, it is." He paused, and moved towards her hand, but she was the one to finally hold it. "I'm glad you decided to tell me where you are."

"The time felt right."

He smiled a private smile to himself, happy. "Have you been in touch with Mamoru?"

"A few letters and phone calls. He's making moves to track down his relatives, last I heard. I don't know much." She said. The wind felt chillier and she took his hand into her pocket with hers'.

They sat there for a while. Soon the breeze became quieter and they could hear the surf of the sea more clearly. Above the clouds were thin and patterned like the sand dunes below their feet.

"When you said you didn't love me." He said, and he had to say it, because the question would always be there if he didn't. "Did you mean it?"

Usagi was quiet for a long time. She dipped a painted toe in the sand and listened to the cadence of the waves. "I don't know. I don't know now either. All I knew is I needed to leave. I was so sad, Seiya."

"I know. I'm sorry I made you that way."

"That's not true." She said, very strongly.

"But I confused your life, the whole 'destiny' thing and that."

"You saved me from that. You saved me from … not being the person I had been all my life. I like that person."

His hand moved to the back of her neck. "Me too."

They were quiet again. Finally she picked up her shoes and went to dip her feet in the cold water of the incoming tide.

"I made a promise long ago to make you happy again." Seiya said, watching the ocean spray lift itself around her ankles. Everything in that moment fell into place. "You said you don't know if you love me, right?"

Usagi danced in the water. "Right."

"How about I help you find out?" He suggested, taking a step forward, stilling her as he linked his arms around the base of her spine. "I don't care what the outcome is, as long as I get to be with you."

"Seiya, I…"

"Shh, just, let's try. Let's see where life takes Odango and Seiya for once."

She thought for a long time, but she knew the answer. She just thought of the past year and it was like the tide. Everything changed on the shore as the tide came in and out. She wouldn't be able to tell what would appear at the next turning on the side. She could only find out by following the tide itself.

Usagi then smiled, and settled into the warmth of his fleece. "Okay."

THE END.


End file.
